


Drink and Be Merry

by Louffox



Category: Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Drinking, Foolish, Funny, M/M, Septiplier - Freeform, Stood Up, tumblr prompt I wrote a long while ago and forgot about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:45:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louffox/pseuds/Louffox
Summary: Jack gets stood up, but the night still ends swimmingly.





	Drink and Be Merry

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt going around tumblr for a long while:
> 
> Person A goes on a date but gets stood up, Person B notices and swoops in to take the place of the stander-upper and everything is awesome.  
> Or something like that. I may be paraphrasing.
> 
> Anyways, I'm trying to get back in the writing mood again, kick my muse back into action, and was going through my old half-finished stuff, and found this! Unbeta'd and half written on a phone. As I do.

Jack sighed, heart somewhere around his shoes, and spun his straw around the edge of his drink. This was probably Signe's fault.

 

No, it wasn't. It was this guy- Derrick- who was to blame. Or maybe there was no blame- maybe the guy was actually cripplingly shy, and he'd had an anxiety attack and couldn't show up. He texted as much to Signe.

<<Stop making excuses for him! He could've at least texted you. What a jerk.>> she replied quickly. Another followed.

<<See what he's missing out on? You look for the good in everyone. Stood up, and you're trying to imagine a situation where he's not a bad guy.>>

Jack snorted quietly, and clicked his phone dark. It's battery was low. Fourty-five minutes of bored scrolling would do that.

 

Signe wasn't to blame. She was just trying to help. She was his best friend, and wanted nothing but the best for him. So when he'd mentioned, at a movie, that he could actually see himself dating a guy and that was very un-gross to him (this may have been while watching Winter Soldier, but Jack was only human, and Chris and Sebastian were specimens indeed,) so she'd stepped right up to the plate. She'd found him an online dating site and helped him weed out the creeps, until he was talking frequently to this guy, Derrick. They were supposed to meet and have their first date here. Fourty-five minutes ago.

 

The waitress came over and refilled his water glass with a polite smile, edged with sympathy. She'd asked him several times if he wanted to order, but he'd refused, explaining that he wanted to wait for his date to arrive.

 

His date who had, clearly, ditched him. So this was how it felt to be stood up.

 

Felt like shit. He was glad he'd never stood anyone up.

 

And now he had an uncomfortable situation. He could feel the eyes of the people around him in the restaurant/bar, and knew he was the most interesting thing in the room at the moment. The poor sap who refused to believe he'd been stood up. How awkward.

 

"You sure you don't want to order?" the waitress asked. (Again.)

 

"No... He'll be here, I know he will," Jack said, forcing himself to believe the words. They didn’t help- he realized they only made him sound more pathetic.

 

And then the chair opposite of him slid out noisily, and relief rattled through him like a good laugh, and he smiled-

 

Who’s this?

 

Unless Derrick had made some very strange Michael-Jackson-esque changes in the last few hours, this wasn't Derrick.

 

"Hey hon, I'm so so so sorry I'm late! My neighbor set the building fire alarms off, and I left my phone up in my apartment. Couldn't text you to let you know I was standing outside, not even showered or ready or anything. What a nightmare," not Derrick said breathlessly.

 

He did have a very nice smile.

 

The waitress took the man's drink order and disappeared, leaving Jack with the stranger.

 

"Um," Jack said.

 

"I'm Mark. I just... Okay, my friends and I have been at the bar for an hour and we were watching you, we couldn't help but notice that you were... dateless. In a bad situation. So I said I might come over and help save you from a shitty situation, and my friends said I wouldn't dare, so here I am. I… I don’t know how to say no to a dare. Plus, you're really, really, really attractive. But I'm just here to pretend to be your date. Unless I could be your real date,” he said in a breathless rush. “Sorry. Too forward. Uh. I’m Mark.”

 

"What if my date was supposed to be a girl?"

 

"See, that's what I had worried about. But I just heard you tell the waitress 'he'll be here', and that's what made it for me. I thought, hey, what the hell. Can't get any worse than stood up, right?"

 

"Well.... you're not wrong. Stood up sucks."

 

"Right? I thought I'd come help things be less suck." Mark picked up the menu and shook it open, business-like. "So! What are you ordering?"

 

"Are you drunk?" Jack asked bluntly.

 

Mark laughed. "Am I coming across as drunk? I've only had two beers."

 

"So you're always like this?"

 

"I- yeah, you know, I actually am. And- that's an Irish accent, right?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Damn. I wasn't sure from a distance, wasn't sure till just now. That's hot. This guy who stood you up sure is missing out," Mark said with a low whistle. Jack was shocked into a laugh, and Mark cracked a wide smile.

 

"I think I'm gonna get the philly burger. I was gonna get something you eat with a fork, 'cause that's neater, but now that I'm dateless, I guess I don't care if I've got grease running down my elbows," Jack said, glancing at the menu. Without looking up, he added, "Unless you're my date."

 

"Yes to both. Yes, I'll be your date, and yes to the burger. Get that, because I want nachos and those are always a mess- they put so many toppings that it just falls apart as you eat it. So I'll feel less bad about being a slob if we're both slobs together."

 

Jack nodded. He could go with that. "And if you're two beers deep, then I want to be, too," he declared as the waitress came back over. They placed their orders, and she left again.

 

"Not guinness?" Mark asked.

 

"Jay-zus. No. Racist," Jack snorted, but he smiled. “I don’t even like guinness much. But I do drink a lot,” he admitted with a laugh.

 

“Knew it.”

 

“Racist!”

 

“Hey, stereotypes exist for a reason. I’m half-korean, and I’ve got a degree in engineering, how bad of a stereotype is that?” Mark shrugged. “What are you doing in California, if you’re from Ireland?”

 

“Going to school for new media. I want to do videos or music tech,” he explained. “Or voice acting- but I get that’s kind of unattainable, so I’m taking it as just a pipe dream and running with the video stuff.”

 

“Why would that be unattainable?” Mark snorted. There was a peculiar glimmer in his eye- he looked like the cat who’d gotten the bird.

 

“Well, it’s just… one of those things. Thousands of people vying for one opening. Anyways, my voice is all annoying anyways.”

 

“Like hell! Your voice is  _ interesting _ . You know what people look for in voice acting? A voice they could listen to all day. And let me tell you, I could listen to you for hours and hours,” Mark said wryly. “I might know a little about that industry… see, I’m a Youtuber.”

 

Jack blinked at him. “Oh, that’s cool,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “What’s your username?”

 

Mark had his phone out and was doing something, and then he held it up to show Jack the screen.  _ Markiplier _ , he read. And then he looked a little below it-

 

“Holy  _ fuck _ , does that say 8 mil?” he exclaimed. Mark grinned.

 

“And sniffing at 9. Look, I know I sound conceited now- like, look at my subs, I’m so popular, I’m so cool- but that’s not my point, I’m not trying to be cool, I’m trying to show you that we might have an opportunity here. See, your voice is actually crazy cool. Your accent will make all the people drool. You’re loud and you seem energetic. You’ve got stunning eyes,” he added. “And I’d love to help you with your career. Help you go wherever you think you need to.”

 

“This isn’t, like, a sugar daddy thing?” Jack asked suspiciously. Laughter exploded out of Mark, and he didn’t stop until the waitress had come over with their drinks and meals.

 

“Hell no! Jesus, it sure must sound like it though… damn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be like- like that. I’m just pointing out everything we have in common, and complimenting you, and… I’ll admit, I’m doing whatever I can to get you to be more than a temporary appearance in my life. You’re really attractive and you seem cool and I’d just really like to see where this goes,” he pleaded. “And I don’t think I’m even older than you, don’t you have to be way older to be a sugar daddy? I’m only 26.”

 

“I’m 23, so that’s quite a gap!” Jack said theatrically, tapping his chin. “You’re definitely taking advantage of my youth. Dadddy.”

 

“Damn, I’m caught. I’ll just go and drink alone, then. After I finish these nachos, though- they’re fucking delicious,” Mark said, shoving a comically large amount of nacho in his mouth, and humming with exaggerated pleasure.

 

“Well… maybe you can stay. Only because my phone battery is nearly dead and I’ve got nothing else to do.”

 

Jack traded some fries for a few nachos, and the juice from his burger did indeed run down his elbows, but it was fantastic. And he quickly caught up to Mark in beers. By the time they were finished eating and had paid, Jack felt like they’d been old friends. They were laughing and exchanging stories and flirts, and when they paid their bills (because it was not really an official date, so to speak, Mark bullied him into letting him pay for his own meal,) Jack found he didn’t really want the evening to end. He was warm and full and fairly buzzed, and the dim bar full of new friends was much more welcoming than his empty apartment.

 

Mark must’ve felt the same. “So, if you’re really Irish, you wanna prove it? Come drink with me. And Bob and Wade, too. But I could tell them to screw off if you want,” Mark suggested.

 

Jack laughed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine with them, but chances are, they’re going to be trying to figure out where the hell you picked the hobo up.”

 

“Hobo? What hobo?”

 

“Me, doofus! Stinky ol’ me!”

 

It might’ve been the booze. Or maybe he was just that bold. Mark leaned far forward, and tucked his nose into the crook of Jack’s neck, sniffing loudly, making goosebumps rise on Jack’s neck. He jumped backwards instinctively.

 

“Not stinky to me!” Mark assured him. Then he shook his head. “Wow, sorry, that was way forward of me. Not cool.”

 

“Blame it on the booze,” Jack dismissed. It hadn’t upset him, but he appreciated the gesture of the apology anyways. Acts like that could be a sign of a fuckboy, but he’d apologized, so that was polite. “Speaking of- by jaye-zus, let’s go git more drank an give yer pale-arse beys some beytins, show ‘em the weys of good proper booze.”

 

Mark started to giggle. “What the fuck did you just say?”

 

“That’s pure irish for you, saying let’s go get fucked up and out drink your friends!”

 

“Is this appropriate for a first date? Getting really drunk?”

 

“This isn’t a date, Mark, remember? I got stood up. We’re… we’re doing that thing, that girls sometimes do when one of their friends gets broken up with. We’re making up for it. You know? When girls get together and drink lots and bitch about the stand-upper and bond over hatred. That’s… it’s a thing, right?”

 

“Sure. As long as I get your number by the end of the night.”

 

“You promised me a foot in the door for my career, my sugar-daddy darling,” Jack teased. “You’re not getting away without it!”

 

“Dude, I’m not going  _ anywhere _ ,” Mark reassured him.

 

For failed dates, it was a pretty excellent night.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone have any other good prompts? Like I said, I'm trying to get my writing juices flowing again and I hunger for prompts. Feed me!


End file.
